by Brian Murray
Chapter 16
Zane roused slowly from his dreams and the drowsiness of sleep gradually departed. As he woke, the picture of the woman and her broken, sweet voice evaporated from his mind. He opened his eyes to see that the fire had died and bright sunshine flooded the cave. Everyone was asleep around the dead fire except Gammel, who sat huddled in the cave entrance. Building up around the former blacksmith were banks of snow, blown by the wind, but none touched him, as if a protective field encased his frame. Zane realised they must have been asleep for some time. Although he was warm, the ashes in the fire were cold. When he stood, the cold grabbed him like a clenching fist and he shivered. Zane first woke Dax, who grunted an obscenity, then bolted upright into a sitting position.
“What happened?” asked Dax, instantly alert.
“A sleeping spell, I think.”
Dax gazed around the cave, listening to the rumbling sounds of peacefully sleeping men, echoing softly. When he rose, his invisible warm cloak fell away and he felt the cold.
“Better wake everyone,” ordered the old warrior. “I will restart the fire.”
Zane walked to the mouth of the cave to wake Gammel. He stopped and called back. “Dax, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Why?” asked Dax through chattering teeth.
“There are fresh horse tracks outside, heading north.”
“Wake the others quickly!” ordered Dax, walking towards the mouth of the cave.
***
Dax and Zane woke the others and told them of the sleeping spell and the tracks outside. Zane did not mention the details of his dream, the silvery-haired woman in the white robe nor her words. The group broke their fast on some hard oatcakes produced by Gan-Goran. That was the last of their provisions and Ubert was still over half a day’s ride ahead. It surprised Dax to see Thade’s wounds had all but disappeared, and no one could explain why, not even the frowning, dumbstruck magic-master, Gan-Goran
“The tracks outside are fresh, not even an hour old,” reported Dax. “The problem is we are now out of provisions and as I see it we have only one option.” He looked towards Zane, who shrugged.
“The way I see it, Dax, we now have the enemy between us and Ubert,” said Captain Waid.
Dax nodded.
“From the tracks, how many horses passed by the cave?” asked Zane.
“I would say twenty or thirty,” replied Dax, frowning.
Zane thought for a moment. “That means they may be trackers. And there is another group following, say a couple of hours behind.”
“That is a fair deduction, Sire. We are now sandwiched in,” added Captain Waid.
“Our only choice is to follow the first group north, and when we get close to Ubert, make a break for it.”
As the men considered their situation, a gentle, whistling wind broke the silence in the cave.
“Well, there it is,” said Dax, rising with a shrug. “Our only chance is to follow them, so there’s no point brooding about it. We might as well mount up and be on our way, before the second group gets here.”
The men went to the back of the cave to ready their horses.
***
“Damn, Tanas!” called Thade suddenly, his groggy mind finally clear. “Where in hell did you come from? We thought you were . . . were gone.”
Tanas smiled. “What, and deprive you of my company? I think not.”
“So what happened to you?” asked Thade.
“Back in the forest I remember one of the Dread jumping at me, and the next thing I knew I dropped into an underground river. After an hour or more of smashing into rocks and such, the river dumped me on the shores of a lake in the southeast corner of the forest. From there I picked up your trail and headed towards Evlon. I cannot miss you, Thade, you smell like pansies.”
“It is good to see you, boy,” replied Dax, smiling.
“I could hear you, Dax, wanting to stay by the hole and wait for me, and I thank you for your loyalty.”
Dax quickly changed the subject. “Where did you get the weapon? May I?”
Tanas handed Dax a surprisingly light metal pole. “Somehow, when I was in river, this bumped my head. I held onto it all the way through my underwater ride.”
“Nice quarterstaff,” said Dax, handing it back.
“Oh, it is more than a staff. Let me show you.” Tanas held the quarterstaff, which was about an arm and a half in length. Tanas smiled broadly. He twisted his hands and the staff split into two. He squeezed a hidden trigger and a blade snapped out of each half, creating two short swords.
“Well now, that’s impressive,” said Dax in a voice full of admiration, holding one half of the staff, now a perfectly balanced short sword. “Very impressive indeed.”
Tanas retracted the blades, joined the halves together, and smiled again. “It suits my fighting style.”
“Tried it already?” asked Zane.
“Well yeah, rescuing that lummox,” explained Tanas, gesturing towards Thade.
“Yes, and thank you, my friend. How did you find me?” asked Thade, having overheard the conversation.
“I told you, you smell like pansies, and they are not common in these parts.”
They all laughed, which lightened the group’s mood as they departed.
***
The group left the cave, their horses’ hooves crunching on fresh powder. They kept close to the trees, avoiding open spaces where their movement against the white snow could be seen miles away. An hour after they left, it started to snow again, forcing the men to don their hoods. Several hours later, they crested a rise amongst a sparse patch of trees about one hundred paces west of the tracks left by the first group of pursuers. Captain Waid called a brief halt and slowly pointed behind them. In the distance, a large group of black clad warriors were following their tracks.
“In this terrain, they are about half an hour behind us,” announced the Royal Lancer. “Do you recognise their colours, Zane?”
“They’re dressed in all black. No, I do not recognise them,” replied the prince, frowning.
“That’s not our only problem,” said Calac, pointing ahead where the first party crested the next ridge.
“Now they’re about half an hour ahead of us, and they are definitely Kharnacks,” added Dax, grimacing.
“Between the hammer and the anvil,” whispered Gammel, glancing at the black-clad warriors behind. A low, primal growl rumbled from deep within the blacksmith, wanting to be released – he recognised the warriors.
They were about to move on when Captain Waid raised his fist, calling a halt again.
“They’ve stopped,” he stated, pointing to the group ahead of them. Thade turned in his saddle and looked behind him.
“How far are we from Ubert?” asked Thade.
“About an hour, why?”
“Those bastards must be psychic,” stated Thade. Everyone turned around and saw the group following them push their horses into a gallop.
“Gan, I would suggest you leave the mule here. We need to ride hard and fast,” said Dax.
“Aye.”
“Any chance of going around them?” asked Calac hopefully.
“Have they trained you boys soft these days? We have no provisions, no time, and no choice. It will be dark soon and the temperature will drop to freeze your balls off. We go through.”
“A simple ‘yes or no’ would have sufficed, sir.”
“No, damn you, we go through!”
“Then move aside, old man, I don’t want it said a Royal Lancer failed, tripping over an old man on a swaybacked bay mare.”
“Now that is the kind of talk I want to hear. Let’s ride.”
***
The group thundered downhill, dodging trees, heading straight for the Kharnacks waiting on the next hilltop. They had to pray to the Divine One for luck as at the speed they travelled an encounter with a hidden root or burrow could lame their horses or cause a bad fall. Soon they would be in the open, with only an hour of day
light and relative warmth left.
***
From some nearby trees, the Dark Brethren behind saw Dax and his group appear on the next hill. They pulsed a message to their comrade leading the Kharnacks, to halt and wait.
The blood bath would start soon.
***
Dax hollered at the others, “We need to get those barbaric whoresons onto flat ground. We have no chance charging into them uphill so we need to show ourselves.”
Without waiting for a reply, he steered his horse left into open ground and the others followed. Once in the open, Dax held up a clenched fist and reined in his horse. “Now we wait here and rest the horses. They are coming.”
***
The group waited in a shallow valley and watched the Kharnacks charge down the slope. Dax, as calm as a frozen lake, turned his back on the charging clansmen and addressed his friends.
“We need to form a fighting wedge and punch our way through these whoresons. I will lead the way and take point. Zane, I want you behind me, with you two Lancers on his flanks.” Dax raised his hand. The gesture reminded the prince of his father and he swallowed his protest. “You are heir to our throne and this time we will protect you, so no argument. Once we get through, head straight to Ubert for help. Do not turn around to help us, here our best bet is help from Ubert.”
Dax drew his axes from his harness and smiled. “Those bastards are quick,” he said, nodding at the oncoming riders. The black clad warriors crested the hill.
“Gan, you going to be all right, old man?”
“You just watch this old man. I did not pick the fastest horse for the fun of it!” Dax boomed with laughter – a contagious sound, and everyone laughed.
“Nice to hear you were thinking of your own hide.”
“Too true. Now I think it’s time to move.”
Dax turned to face the charging Kharnacks as the others drew their weapons. He whispered a prayer to the Divine One, then without another word heeled his horse into a gallop, heading straight for the Kharnacks. The others followed.
Snow flew up from the horses’ hooves as the group charged on. The sun started to descend in the sky. Darkness, and the freezing cold, would be upon them soon.
Luckily, the Kharnacks thinned their line, making it easier to punch a hole through.
Dax could sense that the others were forming the fighting wedge behind him. He dropped the leather reins on to the horse’s neck and guided it with his legs. This freed his hands to swing his axes – his death-dealers.
The others prepared themselves for the clash.
The gap between the groups closed quickly. Behind them, the Dark Brethren started to gallop down the hill. The Kharnacks reached the flat of the valley in a thin line and watched the nine-man fighting wedge come thundering towards them. The men behind Dax watched in awe as he forced a gap between himself and them. Dax held his axes down by the flanks of his horse and leaned into the chestnut’s neck for more speed. Just before he reached the Kharnacks he raised his death-dealers, aiming straight for the warrior in the black armour. Behind him, Zane disobeyed his orders, pushing his horse forward to become the point man in the charging wedge.
They clashed.
***
For two weeks, the two generals spent a great deal of time together planning and plotting. Mutual respect grew between the men, but a friendship would not form so easily. As opposing warriors, there was too much hate, too much history. The two nations had always been enemies and these men had been bred to hate one another. It was harder for General Brooks, as he had to give up some of his control to his enemy. He did not like the idea but did not voice his concerns, trusting his king’s decision.
Many details had to be discussed and dealt with. The king announced to his court that his army would be undertaking training manoeuvres for the next month, which he would lead. In a private meeting with Captain Zorain of the City Watch, he informed him that the nation was, in fact, going to war.
“I don’t understand, your Highness,” said the City Watch captain.
“There are details I cannot give you at this time, but needless to say we will be gone for several months. You will be left with a few companies of Royal Lancers to protect the city.”
“But . . .”
“That is all I can leave you, plus a few ships which will be left to scout along the coast. The rest of the army travels with me.”
“Where are you going?”
“That I cannot say at this time.”
Zorain nodded. “I will ensure your city is safe, your Highness.”
“Thank you. I leave the safety of my wife and daughter in your hands.
“It’s my honour,” replied the captain, bowing.
Captain Zorain did not bother the king with his increasing anxiety over the problems within Teldor. He reasoned the king had enough to think about. He left the meeting feeling concerned, but now he had to ensure the safety of Teldor. This he would have to plan carefully.
***
Two days before the march, Baron Chelmsnor arrived at the king’s private chambers. His escort page knocked on the large wooden door. A muffled reply came from inside and the page opened the door, allowing the baron to enter.
“Good evening, my friend,” greeted King Logan, rising from his seat, bearing a warm smile.
“Good evening, Highness,” replied the baron, bowing deeply.
“Have a seat,” said Logan, walking around the table to sit next to the baron. “I have a favour to ask of you.”
“Anything.”
Logan paused. “I want you to stay in Teldor.”
“What? Why?” asked the baron, failing to hide his astonishment.
“There are two reasons,” started Logan, his voice soft and friendly. “First, without your hand I do not think you will last long in battle. And I do not want to lose one of my key barons, especially one who has to rebuild his duchy.” The baron was about to speak, but Logan raised his hand. “The second reason is more delicate and in fact is a personal favour. I have Captain Zorain of the City Watch and Captain Russ of the Royal Lancers looking after my city. However, I want you to personally protect my family. I want you to ensure that my wife and daughter are safe. My son is out there somewhere and I fret enough over him. I do not want to go into battle worrying about my other kin.”
“But your Highness, I want to see the men who perpetrated the atrocities in Evlon punished. You know that I seek vengeance for the deaths of women and children who were under my protection.”
“Chelmsnor, I will deal out the vengeance you seek, and ensure all those who are responsible are dealt with swiftly. But I want you to stay here. I know you are a man of courage, an old warhorse, which has been proven time and time again against the Kharnacks. However, this time you will stay here.”
Chelmsnor sat in his chair, holding his anger in check. He could see the obvious concern in his king’s eyes – there was also a need there. The baron bowed his head and took a deep, calming breath. He looked back up into his king’s eyes.
“I am disappointed, your Highness, but also honoured that you choose me to defend your family. I will, of course, defend them with my life.”
“That I know and I thank you.”
The two men had some refreshments and spoke more of the upcoming battle. During their discussions, the king asked the baron to confirm the description of the force that had carried out the slaughter in Evlon.
After an hour or so, Chelmsnor left the king’s chambers. Logan sat in his chair thinking of the baron. He could see the disappointment in Chelmsnor’s eyes when told he had to stay. But shortly after, he could see the pride in the man’s eyes when asked to defend the queen and princess. The king relaxed. His family would be safe. He continued to read through reports on his desk. It was going to be a late night.
***
The day of departure arrived. The king had spent the previous evening entertaining the Chosen, his daughter and Megan, together with his family, to ensure there was
harmony. The women would be left behind and he did not want any friction, though he did not have to worry as the women got on handsomely. The king spent the morning in private with his wife and daughter. They walked in the gardens and talked, no one mentioning Logan’s immediate departure. They returned to the king’s private rooms, where Logan and Larene sat arm in arm on the couch.
“Larene, I love you very much,” said the king passionately.
“I know.”
“I will find Zane and bring him back to you, I promise.”
“I know you will.”
“Sasha, you be good for your mother.”
She giggled sweetly and replied, “Always.” Logan and Larene laughed.
A soft knock caused all to turn towards the door. General Brooks entered and bowed. “It is time, your Highness.”
***
On the morning of departure, the Chosen spent his time with both Ireen and Megan. Over the last two weeks, he had come to see Megan as Ireen’s sister and like an adopted daughter. The two girls had become inseparable and did everything together.
“Megan,” started Rowet, “I know you are an orphan, as Ireen has told me. I must tell you now that you will always have a home with us in Kal-Pharina. You are like my second daughter and if you wish, you can come and stay with us as my adopted child.”
At first Megan, with tears in her eyes, could say nothing in response. Rowet put his arm around his newly adopted daughter and hugged her close. “Thank you,” she whispered. “You honour me.”
“No, my child, you make me proud and honour me.” The tears continued.
“Ireen, I will be leaving you now. When everything is settled, I will send for you and Megan. You are to stay here; I need to know you are safe before I go.”
“But Father, I want to be with you.”
“I cannot do this, knowing you may be in danger, my child. Please do not argue with me about this. I need you to stay here and remain safe. I will send for you soon – I promise.”
Rowet hugged his daughter for what seemed an age, then held her at arm’s length. “I will avenge your mother and then you can come home.”
“Be quick, Father,” she said, tears spilling from her eyes.
Rowet forced a tight smile. “Be strong and I will see you very soon. Now, you two, do not misbehave or I will hear about it and my punishment will be swift and severe!” Laughter soon filled the gardens. “That’s better, now I have a picture to remember of my daughters smiling.”
